i would welcome it with a warm mug of coffee,
venture its entirety beyond what i could see,
wrap my soul's arms around it, never to let it go,
for cynical pain was death and chaos,
and i have learned that to live was to love and grow.

IA

the daggers pierced through,
when i thought i had an armor on;
i barely felt the stinging pain,
i barely bled before my eyes,

i carried on until i looked at the mirror;
i forgot how the sharp tip should have felt,
it pierced through my own flesh, armor-less.

IA

it is 4:55 in the ******* morning.
   i blame you.
      it's your fault that i am up this late.
         countless thoughts.
            racing mind.
               wondering
                  imagining.
                     what it would be like.
                        to be loved by you.
                           but that's as far as it goes.
                              my own imagination.
                                 and once i realize that.

it starts all over again.
sigh.

they say that to love someone in a lifetime,
you have to attend a thousand funerals
of people who they used to be.

i stood before yours in disbelief,
as you stood before mine;
pale, cold, grasping for life.

IA